


The Bet

by moonstruckbucky



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Smut, an 80s take on The Taming of the Shrew, for like one chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-03-26 11:31:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19004914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonstruckbucky/pseuds/moonstruckbucky
Summary: Billy Hargrove never turns down a challenge.





	1. Chapter 1

Billy decided on a whim that nothing could be more boring than Hawkins, Indiana. In contrast to California, Hawkins was dull, rained too much, and was filled with cookie-cutter people who lived in cookie-cutter houses. He attended a boring-ass, cookie-cutter high school, half-listening to his boring-ass teachers drone on and on like the adults in that show that Max liked to watch on the weekends. Wah wah wah wah wah.

He missed California more than he would ever admit aloud. No one needed to think the newly-crowned Keg King of Hawkins High was anything less than a rough-n-tumble, take-no-shit hard-ass with a bad temper. Rumors spread on his first day that the reason he moved was because he was outrunning a drug cartel until a new one popped up in its place that he murdered someone and was on the lam. That one had made him snort. The teenagers he went to school with had some wild imaginations.

Billy would bet his precious Camaro that he was the most interesting thing to happen in Hawkins in, well, probably ever. It was that knowledge that put the swagger in his step and the cocky, shit-eating smirk on his face Monday morning. Already stories were buzzing around the halls about who his latest conquest was over the weekend; he’d been in Hawkins all of a week and already he’d had three seniors under him. His name was uttered in every hallway when he walked by, flanked by Tommy H. and his goons.

Tommy laughed raucously behind him and Billy had to bite back a growl. Billy didn’t have what he considered traditional friends, even in California. Even if he did, the likes of guys like Tommy H. would be so far down the list of options they wouldn’t even be an option. No, Billy considered the flock of idiots behind him to be more followers rather than friends.

Tommy’s crowing laugh was also a pretty good reason to not consider the idiot a friend. Not to mention, Tommy wasn’t loyal. He flocked to those on top until they were knocked off their pedestals and then he was off to find the next future king; he did it with Harrington, he did it with Billy, and Billy guaranteed he’d be doing the same thing to his bosses and coworkers when they all were released out into the real world.

When Tommy guffawed again, Billy rolled his eyes, and the group of girls leaning against their lockers giggled. A corner of Billy’s mouth quirked up in his trademark smirk and he turned gracefully to address the brunette of the group. He propped an arm up beside her and, like clockwork, she began twirling her hair around her finger, snapping her gum like all the others.

Frankly, Billy was bored already with the selection of girls at Hawkins High. Some of them were taken, many were way too young (he wasn’t that depraved), and others were just….flat out boring. Even he didn’t have the capability of tuning them out. One girl upheld an entire one-sided conversation on a date with him; his face was up her skirt in his backseat and she carried on as if she couldn’t be bothered. When she didn’t come, too involved in listening to herself speak, he didn’t even bother with trying for home plate.

Tommy Halfwit at least knew when Billy was putting the moves on a girl, and he continued down the hallway with his posse, diving into a story in an effort to put himself higher up on the ladder. Billy paid him no mind, instead feigning interest as the girl next to him prattled on about who knew what. But playing along got him a date for that night and an address, so he brushed aside the boredom.

By lunchtime, he had a date set for almost every night this week, which, lucky for him, would keep him out of the house most nights. Despite having to spend time with girls who would try way too hard to tame the untamable, he felt a minor relief knowing he’d be less likely to piss Neil off in some way or another. So he’d fake his way through a conversation, make the girls think he was interested, take what he wanted when they offered it (because they always did), and avoid them the next day in the hall.

It was an endless, vicious cycle, a ride that Billy had no intention getting off of yet.

Suffice it to say, he was downright intrigued for the first time since moving to Hawkins when he heard a loud curse across the parking lot just before lunch ended. Turning his head, he scanned the lot until his eyes fell on you as you paced by the back fender of your car. One hand came up to tangle in your hair as another loud curse left your mouth.

Billy’s mouth twitched in an amused smirk when you kicked your tire in aggravation. He slapped Tommy in the chest, immediately pointing you out to him. Tommy’s caterpillar eyebrows shot up his forehead and he cackled idiotically.

“Dude, you don’t even want to know,” he guffawed. “Girl’s wound tighter than a rusted bolt. You’ll never get her uncorked.”

Billy gave him an unamused glare. “You doubting me, Halford?”

Momentarily, Tommy cowered. “Not at all, man, but even you can’t crack the nut that is Y/N L/N. No one has, not even Harrington before you got here.”

Billy scoffed, insulted to be compared to the likes of Harrington. “I’ve got more game than Harrington, and Y/N hasn’t met _me_ yet.”

Tommy spluttered unattractively. “All right, man. Tell you what, you get Y/N to go all the way with you, and I’ll come to school in my fucking underwear.”

“You got yourself a deal,” Billy replied automatically, extending a hand to shake on it. Tommy suddenly looked very nervous, and his hand was sweaty when it gripped Billy’s. With a determined glare, Billy stood up from the table and sauntered across the parking lot where you were still analyzing your car.

As he walked closer, he could make out the telltale sign that your car had been a victim of a parking lot hit-and-run. The back fender was scraped to hell, the bumper was dented, and the car was no longer straight in the parking spot.

“Everything all right there?” he asked, cranking the charm up to eleven. His hands were in his pockets and he leaned against your car like he belonged there. Immediately your hackles were up and you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Does everything look all right?” you retorted, blowing a strand of hair out of your face. Billy was embarrassed to admit it was cute. “No, everything not fucking all right. Some asshole hit my car! My dad is going to freak!”

“Relax, sweetheart. I can fix this.” He pushed off the car and knelt beside the fender, running his hands over the damage. He could pop out the dent easily enough, sand the fender, repaint it…. Piece of cake.

“You….you can?” Your eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What’s the cost?”

“No cost sweetheart,” he crooned, straightening up again. “Just a date.”

You scoffed. “No thanks. I’ll take it to a mechanic.”

As you stepped forward to brush by him, his hand curled around your bicep, a quick “wait a minute” sneaking past his mouth, and you whirled on him.

“Let go of me,” you ordered darkly.

He did so with raised eyebrows, lifting his hands in surrender. Internally, he was panicking a bit. This is going to be harder than originally planned. But at the same time, you had him interested. He hadn’t had a girl brush off his advances in, well, ever, except for Lucy Haley in freshman year but only because she was a lesbian.

With an examining look, you finally turned away and headed back into the school as lunch ended. Billy found himself smirking after you, realizing he’d need to pull out all the stops to land a date with you.

Billy silenced the laughter of Tommy and the others as he stomped back to the table. Just his luck they’d be watching him like hawks to see if he could really land a date with Hawkins High’s resident ice queen.

“Dude, I told you,” Tommy chided, still braying like a jackass.

“Whatever, idiot. Bet isn’t over yet. Just make sure you pick out the perfect pair of tighty-whities.”


	2. Chapter 2

The damage to your car would cost a whopping $400 to fix, a hefty amount more than your piddly savings account was boasting. Randy Donner, the owner of the body shop, had even given you a small discount because he knew your father really well, but the final number was still stuck in your head. Maybe your dad’s insurance would cover it.

Fortunately, your dad wouldn’t be home until after your shift at Hawkins’s only comic book store, so you could stave off that conversation for a few hours. What pissed you off the most about the whole thing was that there wasn’t even any paint transfer from the other vehicle.

After leaving Randy’s body shop, you had just enough time to run home and change before your shift started. You threw on a pair of rattier jeans and a plain black shirt, an unofficial uniform of Comic Book Palace. Lacing your sneakers, you called out a quick goodbye to your mother and headed into town. You pulled your car into the rear lot.

Your coworker, Lil, was leaning against the counter when you walked in, the bell above the door announcing your arrival. She snapped her gum, looking at you blandly.

“You’re late,” she muttered. Glancing at the clock above her head, you scoffed.

“By like, three minutes, Lil. Give me a break.”

“Whatever. I’m leaving. Have fun.”

Lil was a character. The two of you didn’t necessarily get along, despite sharing similar feelings about working in a comic book store. Read: you despised it. But that’s as far as your similarities went. Lil was into smoking and drinking and wearing nothing but the color black, she cursed like a sailor even when customers were present, and her overall attitude just screamed  _fuck off_. You weren’t really sure how she managed to land her job, but Lil was pretty enough, and your manager had a thing for pretty girls.

At that thought a slimy shiver slid down your spine. Marv owned the store and managed it full time instead of paying someone else to do it. He was in his late twenties and creepy as hell, but you supposed you had to have a level of creepiness if you were a twenty-something-year-old man who owned a  _comic book store_. 

Throwing your bag into the locker in the break room, you grabbed your name tag and pinned it to your shirt. One good thing about your job was the lack of official uniforms. You punched in on your time card, offering a polite wave to Marv as he sat in his office balancing books. He gave you a lewd smile, not shy in the least in giving you a once-over. You rolled your eyes when your back was to him.

You spent the first portion of your shift straightening out the comics, facing the shelves, and dusting around the counter. Sheesh, did Lil do  _anything_  productive on her shift ever?

At ten of four the bell over the door rang, and you looked over to see your quartet of favorite customers piling into the store. You grinned widely at them as they tripped over each other to get to the counter.

“Did it come in? Do you have it?” Dustin asked, the others repeating the same questions.

“Calm down, calm down. Yes we have it. It just came in yesterday.” Ducking under the counter, you dug through a cardboard box and pulled out four copies of the latest  _Iron Man_  comic. You laid them on the counter and the four boys in front of you scooped them up and nearly ripped the pages in their rush to open them.

Dustin, Mike, Will, and Lucas had been coming into the comic book store longer than you’d worked there. When you first started, you hadn’t had a clue about comic books, but that changed after just one meeting with the boys. Dustin had started it off by asking how you even got a job at a comic store if you knew nothing about them, and then he wandered to the shelves and picked up a comic.

He threw it on the counter, ordered you to read it despite the fact that you were on the clock, and then spent the next thirty minutes explaining everything to you about that particular issue.

It was an odd sort of friendship that blossomed from that first day, but the boys had become your favorite customers and your best friends.

They ended up migrating to the circle of chairs closer to the back of the store, chattering away about the new issue. You smiled after them, shaking your head, before resuming your duties of keeping the store clean. Your cleaning eventually brought you over to the boys.

“Oh so did you hear? Someone beat Dustin’s score on Dig Dug,” Lucas teased, his teeth glimmering against his dark skin as he grinned. Your eyebrows rose and you looked over at a grumbling Dustin. “Some kid named Mad Max.”

“But you’re the champ of Dig Dug! How could someone beat your score?”

“No clue, but he did it.” Lucas was still smiling like the cat that ate the canary.

“You’re enjoying this too much, Lucas,” you said with a smirk, pointing the feather duster at him.

“Just means that Dustin is  _still_  second best. Wha-bam!” Lucas gestured wildly with his hands, miming dropping a bomb.

“All right, all right, that’s enough,” Dustin stated, closing up the comic book as he finished it. “Let’s go. It’s dinner time.”

The boys continued to bicker as they handed you back the comics, thanking you for letting them hang out for a while, and then they left.

After them, you had a total of one other customer, a girl about the same age as the boys. Her hair was bright red and she held a skateboard under her arm.

“Hi, can I help you find anything?” you asked her. Her head whipped around to you.

“Um, do you have any Captain Marvel?” she asked timidly, her face tinging pink. You smiled politely and nodded. Stepping around the counter, you led her down the aisles until you found the Captain Marvel section.

“Any particular issue you’re looking for?” She shook her head. “Okay. Well, have you read her comics before? If not, I suggest starting from the beginning. We have issues one through twelve in stock right now, but we might be getting more in the next few weeks. Let me know if you need any help okay? My name’s Y/N.”

“Max,” the girl replied with a small smile. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Max ended up staying until you were closing up the store, getting lost in the world of Carol Danvers. Knowing Marv was still in the back room, and probably would be for most of the night, you offered to wait with Max for her ride to come pick her up. She waited up front while you fetched your bag, took off your name tag, and once again waved politely at Marv.

“Have a wonderful night, Y/N,” he said lasciviously. Cringing, you hurried back up to the front where Max was waiting.

You sat on the curb with her next to your car, asking her about school and what got her into Marvel comics. The sound of a revving engine halted your conversation as a blue Camaro came flying into the lot. Smoke streamed from the driver’s side door. You and Max stood up and your eyes glanced over to the Camaro; you suppressed a groan when you saw its driver. The passenger window rolled down and the smirking face of Billy Hargrove greeted you.

“You work at the Nerd Palace, princess?” he taunted, bringing the cigarette to his mouth to take a long drag. You scrunched your nose as he blew it out towards you, waving it away.

“Smoking kills, you know,” you groused. Max smirked as she stood up to put her skateboard in the backseat. “ _This_  is your brother?”

“Step-brother,” she corrected sourly.

“I am so sorry, kid.” You smiled as she laughed, but it dropped when you shot Billy a glare. Max flipped the passenger seat forward and sat down it, closing the door but leaning out the window. “Next time I’ve got some cool comics for you.”

You ignored Billy’s derisive snort and his grumbling, something along the lines of “cool and comics don’t belong together”. Max, meanwhile, smiled and nodded excitedly, and without saying another word, Billy floored it, tires squealing as he peeled out of the lot. You watched as his taillights faded into the distance. Shaking your head, you got into your car and prepared yourself for a long discussion with your dad about your car.


	3. Chapter 3

Billy couldn’t even  _fake_ being interested in whatever bullshit Tina was spewing. His focus was solely on you across the lunchroom as you buried your nose in a novel, but Tina either didn’t notice or, if she did notice, she didn’t care.

He was getting frustrated. In the past week you managed to turn him down a total of six times. Each rejection chipped away at his patience until what was left was hanging by a thread. He wasn’t used to having to work for a girl’s affections, and Tommy was growing more and more confident that Billy wouldn’t be able to pull this off.

Hell,  _Billy_ was growing a bit concerned. Was he off his game? No, there was no way.

Then Tina mentioned the word “party” and Billy felt himself smirking. Maybe he wasn’t zoning out as much as he thought. Parties were where Billy could bolster his reputation. He’d already dethroned Harrington as Keg King, and parties promised him at least one lay with a girl who wouldn’t whine that he hadn’t called her.

Billy watched with disdain as freak Byers sat down across from you, setting his book bag on the table. You barely lifted your head in acknowledgement, flashing him a brief smile before returning to your book. Billy felt himself deflate in relief, but only barely. How come Byers was worthy of your attention yet all Billy got from you was a grimace or a sneer?

The thought had crossed Billy’s mind that he was trying too hard which, to him, was a ridiculous notion. But it was the only thing he could think of for why you were saying no. Maybe he needed to tone it down a bit.

When lunch was over, he made a beeline for you. You barely suppressed a groan as he sidled up beside you and insisted on walking with you to class. He  ignored Byers, who shot him a nasty look before plowing on down the hall.

“Billy,” you said on a sigh, “to what do I owe the ultimate displeasure?”

“Ouch, doll, you wound me.” He smirked as he held a hand to his bare chest.

Did this guy not have a clue about buttons? You tried to shrug off his arm as it fell over your shoulder, but he refused to move it, adding to your agitation.

“What do you want?” you asked next through gritted teeth, coming to an abrupt stop at your locker. Billy fell into the lockers beside you while you swapped your books.

“What are you doing tonight?” he asked, plastering on that lopsided grin that had all the girls swooning. But not you. You merely pinned him with a deadpan look and slammed your locker closed.

“Working.”

“Until when?”

“None of your business.”

“Go to Tina’s party with me.”

“Not a chance in hell.”

“Come on, doll.”

“Don’t call me that,” you hissed. “I’m not interested. Get that through that thick skull of yours.” With that, you whirled on your heel to stride gracefully into your classroom, leaving Billy feeling as if he’d taken a dozen steps backwards.

You slumped into your chair, massaging your fingers into your temples to relieve some of the pressure building up. Billy Hargrove was the cause of way too many headaches. Between your dad grounding you for your car, even though it wasn’t your fault, and the research paper due for your History class that was worth fifty percent of your grade, your patience was wearing unusually thin. Now you could add Billy to that growing list of aggravations. God, you were exhausted.

You felt physically lighter when school finally ended. Even the thought of a five-hour shift couldn’t drag you down. The comic book store was rarely busy, leaving you plenty of time to clean the place and de-stress. And boy, did you need that de-stressing session.

Since your car was in the shop, you walked to work after school, enjoying the cool fall breeze as it rustled your hair. Your Walkman was turned up to medium volume, just enough to drown out the sounds of the world around you. You mouthed the words as you walked the street, scuffing your sneakers on the sidewalk. Fortunately, the comic store was a short, twenty-minute walk from the school.

The bell rang over the door as you walked in. Marv was behind the counter, and he looked up at you, smirking widely at the sight of you in the skirt you’d chosen to wear today. Ignoring it as best as you could, you headed straight for the back room to change into your usual work attire. Pinning your name tag to your shirt, you walked back out to the front area but opted to straighten the comics in the back half to avoid any unnecessary interactions with Marv.

Your shift went by slowly. Marv wouldn’t keep his eyes off of you, despite the jeans covering your legs now, and you had to grit your teeth to keep your mouth shut against snapping at him. You could feel his eyes on your back as you straightened the front display, your hands tightening around the comic in your hands.

That feeling didn’t subside even as the bell rang over the door, and you had to do a double-take to make sure you really were seeing Billy Hargrove stepping foot into the comic store. He wasn’t looking at you, though; he was staring hard at Marv, catching him red-handed at practically undressing you with his eyes.

To your relief, Max’s bright red head bounded in after him, giving you a smile and a quick “hey!” before she was off to the back of the store. Billy stopped beside you, giving Marv one last glare before he turned to address you.

“What happened to ‘comics aren’t cool’?” you snarked, surprising Billy when a smirk threatened to break through. He scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“They’re not.” But he was reaching for a  _Masters of the Universe_  comic with Skeletor on the cover. 

“Thought you’d be at Tina’s party,” you said idly, wondering just where the hell that curious and hopeful tone had come from.

“May I remind you you’re on the clock, Y/N,” came Marv’s slimy voice from behind you. You cringed, tossing a halfhearted apology over your shoulder, and moved on down the shelf, straightening as you went.

Billy followed you, occasionally throwing a cold look over his shoulder at your boss as the slimeball followed you both with his eyes. He still had the Skeletor comic in his hand, to your slight amusement, and flipped through it every so often.

“Max wanted a new comic, and I didn’t feel like partying.” The reply was completely honest, which came as a total shock to him. Internally he kicked himself.

“The Keg King didn’t feel like partying? What if you lose your throne?” you exclaimed dramatically, throwing your hands up to cover your mouth. Billy snorted, running a hand through his wild curls.

“I think it’ll be safe for one night. What time are you off?”

You heard yourself answering before you could stop yourself. “Half an hour.”

“Let me drive you home.” Your eyes shot to him, eyebrow arching. There was no trace of Billy’s confident smirk. In fact, he was almost pleading with you. “Please. I know your car is in the shop and it’s too dark to walk.”

Marv clearing his throat behind you made you jump, and you spun to face him. His face was pinched in annoyance and every so often he’d glance at Billy over your shoulder. Behind you, Billy took a small step closer, and oddly, the movement comforted you against Marv’s advances.

“Y/N, I’m going to need you to stay a little late tonight. Inventory,” he said, his eyes gleaming. Your eye twitched with barely restrained annoyance.

“Didn’t Lil and I just do inventory last week?” you retorted, cocking a hip.

“Yes, well, uh, we’ve got some new stock so it needs to be taken.”

“Well, I unfortunately can’t stay tonight. If I had known last week then I would’ve, but this last minute, I can’t.” Your reply came easily and politely; meanwhile Billy was near fuming at the thinly-veiled attempt by your creepy boss to keep you later.

Marv’s jaw clenched and your shoulders straightened, daring him to fight you on it. “Very well. Just be prepared to stay late next week. You can go.”

You didn’t waste a second longer to walk by him, making sure your shoulders didn’t touch, to head back into the break room and grab your bag. You ducked your head as you walked back out to the front, walking right by Marv, and walked out the front door.

Billy and Max were already at the car, Max in the backseat and Billy leaning against the hood, smoking. He looked over at you as you physically shook yourself.

“That guy’s such a fucking slimeball,” you grumbled when he gave you a look. His blue eyes hardened.

“Why do you even work for that creep?” he asked, flicking his cigarette away. He rounded the hood and got into the driver’s side while you dropped into the passenger seat.

“It’s an easy job and it pays well enough. Plus, it isn’t all bad. He’s normally not that outward about it though. Usually it’s just disgusting looks.”

“Yeah well, I was about two seconds away from knocking his teeth in. He’s what, 30?”

“Somewhere around there,” you answered, narrowing your eyes as you zeroed in on Billy’s comment. You couldn’t ask more though, as Billy pulled up in front of a house and opened the door. You leaned forward to look out the windshield; it must have been his house.

Max bounded out of the backseat as Billy pushed his seat forward, calling a quick ‘bye’ over her shoulder. You waved, and Billy got back in the seat, pulling away from the curb and asking for your address.

“I was fine walking you know,” you muttered, looking out the window. “Now you have to go all the way back.”

“It’s fine,” he said shortly. “Not letting you walk home with that creep around.”

You wanted to ignore the slight fluttering in your gut at his comment, but you couldn’t. You could feel your face warming so you turned it away to look out the window, opting to  _not_ wonder about what that was all about. The glass was cool as you leaned your cheek on it, and before you knew it, Billy was pulling into your driveway.

“Thanks for the ride, Billy, really,” you said honestly as the two of you sat in the dark. “I appreciate it.”

“It was nothing.” He shrugged, but inside, he was high-fiving himself for getting at least  _somewhere_  with you. He’d just found his in. “But, uh, if you ever need a ride again, let me know. Can’t have that creep following you home.”

“Thanks, but my car should be finished soon so that won’t be necessary. I’ll see you at school?”

His eyebrows rose. “You’re not gonna yell at me if I say hi are you?”

You giggled, and it was out there before you could think to stop yourself. “No, I won’t yell at you. Goodnight, Billy.”

“Night.”

He stayed in your driveway until you opened your front door and squeezed inside. His Camaro roared down the street, taillights flashing in the dark until they turned a corner and disappeared. You got lost for a second wondering about the peculiarity of the night’s events until your mom’s voice startled you out of your thoughts.


	4. Chapter 4

“Morning sunshine!”

You nearly jumped out of your skin as Billy’s face popped around your locker, your hand flying to your chest. 

“Christ on a cracker, Hargrove! Don’t  _do_ that!” Despite the racing of your heart, Billy’s smug grin was contagious and you had to turn away before one of your own broke through.

If someone had told you two weeks ago that you’d be hanging out with Billy Hargrove, outside the confines of a bedroom or his backseat, you would have had them committed to the happy house one town over.

And yet, here you were, letting him walk you to your second period English class, which had become a regular occurrence since the night he drove you home from work instead of attending Tina’s party. Since that night, he made a point to talk to you about  _something_ , whether it was your car or your classes, and it was impossible to shake him. At first, it irritated you to no end because the guy had an issue with silence apparently while often you craved it. Then as your conversations got heavier, straying away from stupid small talk and venturing into “hopes and dreams” territory, you found he really wasn’t all that bad.

Sure, he still made the lewd comment or shot you a suggestive smirk every once in a while, but even Billy found something cathartic in having actual discussions with someone that didn’t revolve around drinking, drugs, or who his next conquest would be. It was refreshing in a way Billy hadn’t expected.

“How’d your math test go?” you asked him once you’d caught your breath and closed your locker. Billy’s grimace was all the answer you needed. You sighed. “Really? I thought you studied really hard for that?”

“I did. It just didn’t stick, I guess.” He shrugged half-heartedly as the two of you headed down the hallway. Students paused their conversations to watch you; your new friendship with Billy was the talk of the year. The quiet, displaced bookworm and the hard-ass Keg King. Truly a sight to behold.

“Well, there’s always the next one. This is me. See you at lunch?”

“Wouldn’t miss it, dollface.” The smile and wink he shot you made your mouth run dry.

The pet names were a new development, and every single one had the potency to successfully turn your insides to goo. Judging by the twinkle in Billy’s eye, he knew the effect it had on you too. Bastard.

The complete-180 your opinion did of Billy made you nauseous when you really put stock into it;  _too much stock_  if you were being honest with yourself. Friends weren’t really a commodity of yours. Sure, you knew people in school and said hi or made chit-chat at a party (you weren’t a total recluse), but none of them you considered as friends.

Not until Billy.

You liked his friendship; it was easy. Around you he stopped thinking with his dick more than his brain, and you were pleased to find he was actually pretty intelligent, much more than he let others believe. At school, he played the role of the big dump attractive bad boy, but outside of it, he was filled with endless insight about the world’s greatest mysteries.

Bonus: you and Max got along great. After school while she waited for Billy to get out of basketball practice, you’d wait with her. She almost always had her skateboard with her, and once or twice she tried to help you learn to ride it. Operative word:  _tried_. Balance was not one of your strong suits and your lessons were short-lived.

Somewhere along the lines of your friendship, you realized Billy was way more than you had initially pegged him to be. Though he upheld the reputation at school, you knew he was exhausted by the notion of being just  _Keg King Billy Hargrove_  for the rest of his life. He’d laugh it off as a joke, but you could tell in his posture that he was fed up with the facade. 

It astounded you how quickly you learned how to read him; Billy was an expert at closing himself off, for reasons you had yet to learn, but his eyes spoke everything his mouth didn’t.

“So, Y/N,” came Tina’s crooning voice one seat over from you in English. You clenched your pencil, fighting back a groan of annoyance because you knew what was coming. “What’s going on with you and Hot Stuff Hargrove?”

“Not that it’s any of your business,” you growled, glaring at her from under your lashes, “but nothing. Billy and I are friends. Go fish for gossip somewhere else.”

She scoffed in offense but turned around regardless. You loosened your grip on your pencil as your English teacher dove into your next lesson, one that had you suppressing a groan: poetry.

“Are you serious man?” Tommy exclaimed, only to be immediately shushed by his classmates in Biology. He shot an apologetic look around the classroom before leaning across the desk to pin Billy with an incredulous look. “It’s been almost three weeks!”

“You in a hurry to lose, Halford?” Billy growled, his blue eyes flashing with annoyance, making Tommy scoot back an inch.

“Not at all,” he scoffed. “It just never takes you  _this_  long to bag a girl.”

Billy hated to admit Tommy was right,  _ever_ , but what he hated even more was that this time, it didn’t really bother him. At first, he was all about winning the bet, seeing if he could get the loner bookworm girl naked and under him just to prove the point that he could.

But the past couple of weeks just  _talking_  to you, learning who you really were? He had to admit it was nice to just talk to someone.

God, he was losing his grip.

He knew he was in trouble when you started laughing outwardly at his stupid jokes, knew he was walking on thin ice when your laugh did things to him that he’d sooner die than admit out loud. Mentally punching himself in the head, he pinned Tommy with a glare that could boil water.

“The pay off will be worth it,” he said with a smirk, leaning back in his chair to cross his arms over his chest. Billy had to school his mind to get back on track.

You were a bet, nothing more and nothing less. And he had to get a move on.

“Go out with me tonight,” Billy said as he dropped down onto the picnic table, propping his feet on the seat. His calf was against your upper arm and even through his jeans you could feel his warmth.

“I’m sorry?” you asked around a bite of your sandwich. Your eyebrows were pinched together as you looked up at him, squinting against the sun.

“Go out with me. We’ll go get burgers and go watch Grease at the drive-in.” Despite the fact that it wasn’t a question, there was a note in his tone that told you you could say no if you wanted to.

Odd thing was, a big part of you didn’t want to turn him down. You were tired of staying at home every Friday night, being the ever-productive student and completing all of your homework due the next week, only to spend the rest of your weekend binging movies or reading. Billy teased you about being a bookworm, but his taunting didn’t come with the sting that was typical from the other students. In fact, it made you blush, giggle, and shove him away playfully.

What the hell was happening to you?

“Yeah okay,” you heard yourself saying. The surprise was evident on Billy’s face before he schooled his features into a cool, calm expression.

“Great! Tired of watching you waste your life behind a book, Worm.” He reached over to ruffle your hair, bringing that blush back to your cheeks that he’d recently decided was one of his favorite looks.

That evening you accepted the help of your mother, who had squealed like a schoolgirl when you told her you had a date—your first date. She pulled a few outfit choices out of your closet, and you didn’t think you’d ever seen her so happy. In the end you decided on a pretty blouse and a flowy skirt, and your mom sat you down on the toilet to do your makeup. She left it simple, but she let you use her special blush pink lipstick, claiming it would complete the outfit.

It did.

The roar of Billy’s Camaro down the street set your stomach aflutter with butterflies. You whispered a curse as you waited in your room, not wanting to look too eager. Your foot, clad in a simple black flat, bounced against the floor nervously. Your fingers you kept in your lap, wringing them tightly together. The engine sounded closer, until you knew it was in your driveway, and then it stopped altogether.

The doorbell rang, and you heard your mother opening up the front door. Muffled voices reached your bedroom, and then your mom was calling for you. You made yourself dizzy with how fast you shot up from your bed, but you recovered quickly and grabbed a sweater off the back of your door.

Billy was standing at the front door, talking with your mother, a charming smile on his face. But when you walked downstairs, his world stopped. He’d never seen you so dressed up; your usual attire at school consisted of sweaters and jeans, and he couldn’t stop himself from raking over your form, drinking you in.

The most radiant smile took over his face, lighting up his eyes, and the butterflies increased tenfold as your cheeks warmed.

“You look beautiful,” he muttered honestly when you stopped in front of him. Your mother made a sneaky exit, smirking at you, but you missed it.

“Thank you,” you replied softly. “You look pretty good yourself.”

He was dressed in dark jeans, boots, and a deep blue button down shirt that brought out the blue in his eyes. The top three buttons were characteristically left undone, giving you a glimpse of his toned chest beneath. His cologne wafted around you, mixing with the smell of leather from his jacket and a scent that was just Billy. Fuck, you were in trouble.

“Shall we?” He held out an arm with a smirk, and you looped your arm through it, letting him lead you out to his car. You called a quick goodbye to your mother and closed the front door behind you.

Billy Idol was playing lowly on the radio when you got into Billy’s car. He kept the volume down and his speed reasonable as he drove the two of you to Benny’s. You made idle conversation on the drive, starting with you complimenting his music choice which, he admitted took him by surprise.

“I took you for a Madonna kind of girl.”

You scrunched your face in disgust, causing him to laugh loudly from his chest, and you thought it was a beautiful sound.

“No way. I can’t stand all that crooning. Give me heavy drums and guitar riffs any day,” you responded. Billy felt his heart swell just a little bit at your admission.

“A girl after my own heart,” he said with a smirk that flooded your body with heat. You shifted on the leather, trying to hide your reaction by looking out the window.

Benny’s wasn’t all that crowded, despite it being Friday night, but Billy chose a table away from the door. He held out an arm for you to slide into the booth before he dropped down across from you. A waitress came by to drop off a couple of menus and take your drink orders; you ordered a Coke and Billy ordered a Dr. Pepper.

You grimaced at his drink choice.

“What?” he asked, chuckling.

“How can you drink Dr. Pepper? It tastes like dirt,” you remarked, eyes scanning the menu.

He scoffed, setting down the menu and crossing his arms. “Dr. Pepper is the greatest soda to grace mankind.”

You gagged jokingly. “You must have piss poor taste buds then.”

“I can tell you for a fact that I don’t.” That toe-curling smirk was back on his face, and his comment was loaded. You didn’t miss it, and Billy grinned when you shifted again, knowing the exact effect he had on your body.

The waitress came by with your drinks and took your food menu, and Billy admitted he was surprised when you ordered a double cheeseburger with extra cheese and bacon. It was your turn to smirk as Billy’s jaw went slack, and you sat back in the booth, satisfied that you rendered the great Keg King momentarily speechless.

Conversation flowed easily between the two of you, as it always had, and you felt silly for being so nervous before. Billy was your friend, a good one at that, and he didn’t let the silence settle for too long before finding something else of interest to talk about. He asked for recommendations for books, you wanted to steal records from him to expand your musical horizons, and it was obvious to anyone watching you that there was a connection.

Billy refused to acknowledge it because, as far as he was concerned, he was incapable of feeling anything but anger or hatred for anyone. And an even deeper part of him was scared to feel anything other than that anger; it was all he’d known, thanks to Neil. It’d been years since he’d felt a gentle hand, and his body and mind quickly became attuned to associating touch with something negative.

It took him a while to be okay with sleeping with girls; every touch made his body stiffen and brace for a punch or a slap that he was sure was coming. Now he barely flinched at all if a girl ran her fingers through his hair or raked up his back during a rendezvous in his back seat.

But you, you had his mind in a whirl. You were clever and funny and light; everything Billy wasn’t and even though he didn’t want to, he latched onto it selfishly. Wanted to keep you close as if you could transfer your light and goodness to him and make him not so fucking angry all the time.

Your burgers finished, Billy quickly paid for the meal despite your insistence that you split it.

“A gentleman never lets a lady pay for the first date,” he said easily. Curse your cheeks for blushing for the umpteenth time tonight.

“So this is a date then?” you countered instead, brushing by him as he held open the diner door for you. It was Billy’s turn to blush and he reached up to scratch the back of his neck.

“Well, I mean, if you want it to be then sure? If not, it’s cool. I’d get it,” he stammered. You smiled as Billy tripped over himself before boldly reaching over and grabbing his hand. He stopped talking and smiled down at you, lacing your fingers together.

“I’d like it if it was a date,” you admitted quietly. Billy opened the passenger door for you, lifting your conjoined hands to press his lips to the back of your hand.

“Then it’s a date, doll.” 

Unlike Benny’s, the drive-in was packed, but Billy maneuvered the car to a spot in the back on top of a small rise in the field. It had a perfect view of the screen and was far enough away that another car wouldn’t be right on top of you. 

“Want any snacks?” Billy asked, getting out of the car. He leaned on the driver’s side door, looking into the window.

“Popcorn and some Sour Patch Kids?” you smiled cheekily.

“You got it, beautiful. I’ll be right back.” He slapped the window frame twice and set off down the hill. You smiled softly at his back as he went before reaching to tune the radio dial to the correct station.

The previews playing on the screen drifted through the car’s speakers, and you lost yourself in thought until the sound of the door opening made you jump. Billy chuckled and dropped a package of Sour Patch Kids into your lap.

“Thank you,” you murmured, tearing open the package. Billy smiled over at you as you popped one of the sugary treats into your mouth, humming happily.

He set the popcorn on the console between you, taking a couple pieces and chewing them slowly. As the movie started, your lips curled slowly into an excited smile, and Billy was inclined to mimic it. You made it so easy for him to forget that he was Billy ‘Keg King’ Hargrove; right now, he just felt like a normal teenaged boy on a date with a girl who did funny things to his heart every time you looked at him.

As Danny Zuko and Sandra Dee sang “Summer Lovin”, Billy reached over the console to gently take your hand. You glanced down at them and then over at him, that gorgeous smile splitting your face as he linked your fingers together. That blush spread across your cheeks again (should you get that checked out?) and Billy couldn’t take his eyes off you for a long few moments.

It made you nervous, that look in his eye, but it wasn’t in a bad way. No boy had looked at you quite like that, and you found your really liked the warmth that blossomed in your chest because of it. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, and the gesture paired with the innocence of it set something aflame in Billy. Suddenly he was overcome with pure want, the need to pull you over the console and into his lap hard to resist, but he didn’t move; he didn’t want to scare you off, and he didn’t want to see that look on your face disappear.

So he settled for tightening his grip and drawing small circles on the back of your hand. It was distracting, but you kept your attention on the movie, trying to quell the feeling swirling in your gut.

When Billy dropped you off after the movie, he didn’t kiss you, and that realization had disappointed you. Had he not enjoyed himself? Did he realize he didn’t actually like you like that? You had an easy friendship, unlike the ones Billy had with Tommy and the others, so maybe he wanted to keep your relationship that way.

You walked up the walkway, trying not to let your disappointment show. Billy calling your name made you pause, and you turned slowly to see him jogging up to you. For the first time, Billy looked unsure of himself, but his movements were smooth as he reached for both of your hands and leaned down to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

Billy could feel the slight tremble in your body and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t relish in it. He loved knowing the effect he had on you, and to be honest, he had every intention of kissing you stupid when he dropped you off. But he couldn’t do it. He was stunned by the fact that he  _wanted_ to move slowly with you.

He hadn’t missed the slight frown on your face when he simply bid you goodnight, which was what led him to kissing your cheek, far too close to your mouth to be considered a friendly gesture. A silly smile had taken over your face when he pulled away and Billy felt his own mouth smiling too. 

“I’ll see you Monday?” he asked quietly, not wanting to disrupt the sense of peace that settled over you.

“Yeah,” was your whispered reply. “Goodnight, Billy. And thank you for tonight.”

He smiled wider. “Goodnight, Y/N.”


	5. Chapter 5

Dating Billy came easily to your utter surprise. After that first date, you made it a weekly thing. The diner, drive-through, late-night drives in his Camaro. You felt a new sense of freedom when you were with him, a relief that high school wouldn’t just be an obstacle you had to cross before the real world claimed you. You were grateful for his appearance in your life, and any time he wanted to make plans with you, you accepted readily.

Yet he still hadn’t kissed you. Somehow he’d known you hadn’t really dated before, and when the conversation inevitably came up, he was understanding and agreed to move at your pace. It was refreshing, not feeling the pressure that seemed to come hand in hand with dating in high school.

But it was nerve-wracking knowing he was waiting for you to make the first move. Were you moving too slowly? Was he getting frustrated?

You almost thought you had the answer to that question when Billy picked you up one night and stayed silent for most of the drive. You sat stiffly in the passenger seat, lost in thought as your mind came up with all the different reasons he could be in a bad mood and all of them revolving around you.

He chain-smoked as he drove, the music up a little higher than normal, and while the words were itching to come out, your tongue felt leaden in your mouth. So you sat in silence, keeping your attention out the window.

Billy, meanwhile, could practically hear your mind racing in the passenger seat, yet he couldn’t bring himself to reassure you that it wasn’t you that had him in a rotten mood. He wasn’t quite ready to disclose the cause of his negativity, the reason he held onto the steering wheel with an iron grip and nearly blew through an entire pack of smokes. He wasn’t ready for your reaction.

He finally came to a stop at the edge of Lovers Lake, immediately sparking another cigarette. A tense, awkward silence stretched between you, and you wrung your hands nervously in your lap. Was Billy breaking up with you? You weren’t exactly official yet, but it didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the school body that Billy didn’t treat you like his other conquests.

It made you feel special, but it also made you realize that you might have had Billy pegged all wrong. He was still arrogant as ever, but he revealed a side that stayed hidden, the side that would surely lose him his crown as King of Hawkins High. Part of you should’ve been more paranoid that he was playing you, but with the way his eyes would light up and soften at the same time when fixed on you had you under its spell.

Tonight, though, those mysterious eyes were pointing a fierce glare out the front windshield. Billy had yet to actually look at you, and it made your heart constrict in your chest. You swallowed thickly, trying to keep yourself from breaking even though you knew it was just a result of your mind and its tendency to overthink.

When you composed yourself, eyes focused on your lap, you asked, “Have I done something? Are-are we not moving fast enough?”

Billy could kick himself. Or cry. More than likely the latter. The last thing he wanted was to feel like he was pressuring you. He had needs, sure, he was a teenaged hormonal boy after all, but with you, he didn’t feel the need to rush into anything. It was so unlike him and yet part of him didn’t mind in the least.

“No, babe, you haven’t done anything wrong.” His voice was soft and gentle, reassuring, but he still couldn’t look at you. “I’m not mad at you, I promise, okay? I just…had a bad night.”

Relief blossomed in your chest and you exhaled quietly. Slowly you reached over and touched his denim-clad bicep. Even through the thick fabric you could feel him tense.

“Do you want to talk about it?” His head dropped forward, chin to his chest, and he shook his head slowly. “You can talk to me about anything, Billy. We don’t have to talk now but I’m here for you, whatever you need.”

As if a heavy weight had been lifted off his chest, Billy exhaled shakily. His fingers tightened around the steering wheel for a moment before he finally granted you the sight of his beautiful eyes. But it was the state of the left one that had your heart up in your throat, a gasp fighting through.

His eye was ringed in a dark bruise, swollen, a little bloodshot from burst blood vessels. Unbuckling your seatbelt, you shifted in your seat, sitting on one leg to lean over and gently brush the skin under his eye.

“Oh Billy,” you sighed, an overwhelming sadness settling over you. Billy’s eyelids fluttered as your thumb traced the bruise. “What happened?”

The way he looked down, away from you, told you he was ashamed, told you you wouldn’t get an answer to that just yet. Which was okay with you; if it had been a fight, Billy would’ve just said so. But he hadn’t, so you could only assume someone did this to him outside of a normal fight setting.

“We should get some ice on that,” you said quietly, your thumb still tracing over his eye. He moved to shake his head, but you held it still stubbornly. “Not taking no for an answer. It’ll help the swelling.”

He sighed through his nose and couldn’t help the slight twitch of his lips at your stubbornness. Wordlessly, he drove to your house and sulkily followed you up your walkway. Outside the front door though, he stopped, wondering and panicking over what kind of impression that would leave on your parents.

“Billy?” you asked from the open doorway. You could read the hesitation on his face and stepped closer to him, taking both of his hands in yours to tug him inside. “Come on, no one’s home.” His boot caught on the frame and he stumbled slightly into the house.

He’d been inside before, but now he felt giant in the small foyer, shifting from foot to foot as you bustled in the kitchen. Moments later you returned with an ice pack and a gentle smile, taking his hand in yours and leading him to the stairs.

He stood just inside the doorway of your bedroom, taking in the soft, relaxing green paint and the few posters and framed artwork on the walls.

“I like your room,” he said, feeling loads better just standing in the relaxing space. You smiled at him as you walked over to him, guiding him to sit down on the edge of your bed.

“Thank you. My parents let me have the run of it pretty much. Let’s get this on your eye.” You reached up to press the ice pack lightly to his eye. He winced at the coldness, his right hand automatically settling on your waist as you stood between his open knees.

“It’s cold,” he whined, making you laugh. Billy felt stupid for thinking he wanted to listen to it every day. 

“Don’t be a baby,” you teased before a frown wrinkled the skin between your eyebrows. “This is gonna be blue for a couple days I think.”

Billy’s thumb skimmed over your side, sending a pleasant shiver up your spine. You tried to hide it, but the sparkle in his uninjured eye told you you failed.

“I’ve had worse,” he whispered before he could rethink it.

You didn’t have time to question what he meant because his left hand came up to gently touch your face. It was warm, and his fingers were calloused, but you didn’t mind. You knew you were blushing, having never been put into such an intimate situation with anyone. His eye was locked on yours as you stood in the quiet silence, the ice pack sending cold drops down his cheek.

Like a magnetic pull you felt your body leaning closer to his. He stayed still, letting you set the pace, and he waited. Your faces were barely an inch apart, and your eye contact never wavered. Noses brushing, you slowly closed the gap between you and connected your lips.

His lips were slightly chapped, but not unpleasant as he followed your lead, eyes fluttering shut. The hand that was holding the ice pack fell away, and the other moved to his neck, fingers curling into the longer part of his mullet. You shivered as he sighed against your mouth and pressed back harder, enjoying the sounds you were pulling from him. The unexpected firmness of your kiss had him groaning quietly, his stomach fluttering with what he could only guess were butterflies.

He’d waited so long to kiss you, waited so patiently for you to take that first step, and now that you had, he felt like he could die happy. While it wasn’t the smoothest kiss he’d ever had—he guessed it was your very first kiss, and he was over the moon at that revelation—but he didn’t care. All he could feel was you. Your scent surrounded him, made him high, and your lips moving against his made him drunk on the taste of you.

When you pulled away, too soon in his opinion, your eyes were still closed but your chest was heaving. He couldn’t stop the stupid smile from appearing on his face as he let his thumb trace your bottom lip, swollen and glistening from his kiss.

“Are you going to hit me if I say ‘about time’?” he asked cheekily, his face lighting up as he grinned. Giggling and blushing like a schoolgirl, you playfully shoved on his chest and he dramatically fell back onto the bed.

“Come on, Bruiser. Let’s go watch a movie.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut ahead.

Since the night that you first kissed him, Billy became extra clingy. An arm around your shoulder or waist, hugging you from behind at your locker, a hand in your back pocket as he walked you to class. Normally it would have you running for the hills, but with Billy, you welcomed it. You’d taken that next step in your relationship, and the honeymoon phase was hitting you both hard. It felt weird, referring to yourself as someone’s girlfriend, never mind  _Billy’s girlfriend_ , but you didn’t mind it at all, especially when he greeted you after every class with that wide, beautiful smile of his.

Being with Billy gave you access to his lunch table, and while Carol wasn’t your biggest fan and vice versa, she at least played nice and tried to make you feel welcome. You respected her for that, and even found yourself hoping the two of you could be friends. You could always use more of those.

Tommy H. was obnoxious as hell, always braying like a donkey and when he was silent, he wore an expression that suggested he knew something you didn’t. It put you on edge, the way he’d look at you or ask you certain, prying questions, but Billy would often step in and kick him hard under the table. He’d brush it off every time you asked him about Tommy’s behavior in private, chalking it up to Tommy being a stupid jackass. You had to agree, but still, you wanted to fit in with Billy’s friends, and Tommy didn’t seem like he was going to make it easy.

As Billy’s girlfriend, it was practically required that you attend parties with him. You’d been to a few before, but most of the time was spent sitting on a couch or against a wall, watching as everyone else socialized, danced, and made asses of themselves. You’d stay for a little while, enjoy one drink, and then drive yourself home to curl up in bed and read until the early hours of the morning. You’d made an appearance, and that was that.

Tonight, though, Billy was showing you off to everyone, a possessive arm around your waist at all times. He made sure a fresh beer was in your hands at all times, though he respected it when you told him you were fine with two. You stepped back as he was called to the keg, his throne, and even you had to admit it was a sight to see your boyfriend, practically shirtless, hanging upside down and basking in the cheers of his followers.

When he was lowered back down, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes trained solely on you, and he charged you like a predator to his prey. The kiss he pressed to your mouth was hard, hot, and sloppy. Billy came alive at a party in a way you’d never seen, and even you couldn’t deny that his energy, his kiss, had your body reacting in ways it never had. You felt warm all over, but a tingle settled in your lower stomach and when Billy pulled away, you were breathless and wanting more.

Eyes hooded you stared up at him, enjoying the way his pupils dilated until his eyes were almost black. It gave you a thrill.

Since your first kiss, you’d grown a bit bolder, graduating from innocent kisses to hot and heavy makeout sessions in the backseat of his car. He never pushed you, never made a move unless he had your full consent. While you wanted him, you weren’t quite ready yet, and he was more understanding than you could have ever imagined. Billy Hargrove, Keg King and playboy, was willing to wait?

Truth was, Billy wanted your first time together to be special, which was absolutely, positively  _unheard of_  from him. But your comfort meant everything to him, and he knew you deserved more than his backseat. He had plans to woo you properly; a nice dinner probably and then you’d go out to the lake with a blanket, watch the stars for a while, and see where it went.

There was no denying he wanted you; every makeout session had him painfully hard in his jeans, but he didn’t press you for anything more than you were comfortable with. He was a dick, but not that much of a dick. Besides, he took care of the problem after he’d dropped you off at home, locking himself away in his bedroom to beat one or two or three off to the images of you riding him.

He’d almost forgotten about the reason the two of you were even together, until Tommy opened his trout mouth at lunch and nearly spilled everything. He knew you were onto Tommy, but Billy continued to push it aside, change the subject, and try to distract you. He wondered how long he could keep it up, play it off as nothing, but your stubbornness was a force to be reckoned with.

As he stood there with you locked in his embrace, he wanted nothing more than to take you upstairs, or to his backseat, or frankly just on the lawn, and ravish you, make you see the effect you had on him. He was turning into a lovestruck fool and he couldn’t stop it.

Part of him didn’t want to, not when you were looking up at him the way you were.

He hooked an arm around your neck, tucking you into his side as he led the two of you into the house. Teens were dancing in the living room, the carpet stained with various types of alcohol, and the music was almost too loud. You were growing tired, despite the energy flowing through the room, and Billy could sense it in the slight heaviness of your body as you followed him.

Tommy and his goons intercepted the two of you. Judging by the redness in Tommy’s cheeks and his shining eyes, he was already three sheets. His glassy eyes bounced between the two of you, smirk widening when they settled on you.

“Well, well,” he taunted. Beside you, Billy tensed, his fingers curling into your sweater. He knew Tommy had a loose tongue when he was drunk, and all he could do was hope the stupid fish didn’t say a word. “If it isn’t Hawkins’s newest  _it_  couple.”

“What do you want, Tommy?” you asked on a tired sigh.

“Nothing,” he replied in a tone that it was certainly  _not_  nothing. He cowered slightly under Billy’s withering glare, but then the smirk was back on his face. “Just enjoying the view while it lasts.”

“Get stepping, Halford,” Billy growled. With raised hands in surrender, Tommy sauntered away. You watched him go, turning slightly out of Billy’s grip, and then you looked up at him.

“What did he mean, Billy?” you asked in confusion. He kept it off his face, but fear and guilt were warring in his stomach.

“Nothing. He’s shit-faced. Probably just surprised I’ve kept a girl this long.” His tone turned soft and affectionate, and he lovingly brushed hair out of your eyes. You smiled and blush, leaning into his touch. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

The next night, your shift at the comic store was slow and uneventful. Marv had taken the night off, much to your relief, and you spent most of the night lost in thought. Mostly about Billy.

It still blew your mind that he was into you, but he was, and he’d given you pieces of himself he hadn’t given anyone. It was that knowledge that led you to changing up your date night plans when he came to pick you up once you closed up the store.

The kiss you left on his mouth had his stomach coiling in anticipation. When you pulled away, he took in your hooded eyes and slight smirk eagerly, swallowing deeply.

He cleared his throat and adjusted himself in his seat. “So I figured we’d go see The Goonies at the drive-in. Sound good?”

“Actually,” you said breathily, “can we just go home?”

He felt the breath leave his lungs. “S-Sure, babe. Whatever you want.”

If he didn’t know better, he’d think you wanted to get away from him. But the way you were looking at him, the way your hand ran up and down his arm, down to his thigh, told him it was quite the opposite. Anticipation and, dare he say it, nervousness crept into his system, spread through his body like a virus. When your fingernails grazed over his neck in their gentle exploration of his body, he had to stave off a shiver.

Meanwhile, you weren’t quite sure where the new confidence came from. You hadn’t ever laid with a boy before. All you knew was that you wanted, needed it to be Billy. It was all Billy. When the Camaro pulled up outside your house, you felt the shyness creep in, but you pressed on.

Fingers laced with his, you led him up the walkway, looking over your shoulder at him. The look in your eyes would kill him, he was sure. It had him half-hard in his jeans and he hadn’t even touched you yet. You unlocked the door and walked him into the dark house. Your parents were gone for the night, off at a corporate event for your dad’s job two towns over. They wouldn’t be heading home tonight.

Billy’s steps were calculated as he followed you up the stairs and into your room. Despite being alone, he still closed the door, and he waited. Hesitation had eked into your movements, your hands shaking as you slid your jacket off your shoulders.

“Y/N, babe, we don’t–”

“I want to, Billy. I just, I’ve never done this before and I…” Your bottom lip was sucked into your mouth, and he hated that it made him twitch. Slight distress colored your voice and your cheeks.

“Hey,” he started quietly, hands reaching up to grasp your cheeks, “I only want this if you’re sure, okay? If you do, then I’m going to take care of you. I always do, don’t I?”

You smiled shyly, nodding in his grip. His eyes flitted down to your lips, and he licked his bottom one, leaning forward slowly to capture your mouth with his. You sighed into the kiss, arms raising to drape over his shoulders and tug him closer. He let you lead the kiss, and when his hands settled on your waist, you leaned up on your toes to kiss him harder.

He gasped into your mouth and, with a roll of confidence, you let your tongue explore his mouth. His gasp morphed into a moan, and his fingers dug into your hips. Hands growing bold, you slid his jacket off his shoulders, letting the leather fall to your floor. Next was his shirt, but your fingers were shaking so badly you couldn’t undo them.

Billy stilled your hands with his, murmuring, “Let me.”

In seconds his shirt joined his jacket, and his bare torso was yours to admire. Your eyes trailed from his face down the column of his throat down to his chest and finally to his abs and the subtle v-line that tapered into his jeans. Without thinking about it, you bit your lip, drawing a smirk from the half-naked boy before you.

“See something you like, babe?” he teased gently, chuckling when your cheeks erupted in a serious blush. He tucked a finger under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. Soft blue eyes bore into yours, quelling your nerves. “I’ve got you. You can touch me, Y/N.”

Cheeks aflame, you slowly lifted your hands, grazing your nails across the planes of his stomach. His abdominal muscles clenched and a hiss escaped his teeth. God, your innocence was such a turn on, and it was hard for him to keep himself in control.

Your hands explored his torso, fingers drawing patterns across the skin. He kept his hands at his sides, fists curling and clenching as your touch sent heat south and goosebumps to his skin. Your eyes were wide but desire had dilated your pupils as your nails brushed over his nipples. His hips jolted in surprise, and the smirk you gave him made him weak in the knees.

He just about died when your shyness seemed to fade and your brought your mouth to his chest, tracing over his hardening nipples with your tongue and teeth.

“Holy fuck, kitten,” he breathed on a moan, head tilting back. He’d never thought that  _his_  nipples could be such a huge turn on. “I think you’ve got too many clothes on, baby.”

You lifted your head from his chest, a pleasant flush to your cheeks and your chest. Billy’s hands reach for your shirt and despite the nervousness swirling through you like a hurricane, you let him pull it over your head. You could see his breath hitch as he took in your nearly-bare torso, your skin smooth and creamy and flushing oh so prettily.

Reaching behind you, you took the initiative to unclasp your bra and slide the straps down your shoulders. Billy couldn’t take his eyes off you as they traveled over your body. Despite the urge to cover yourself, you resisted, fingers busying themselves with your jeans.

Once you were laid completely bare for him, Billy had to take a moment to admire you. In every sense of the word, you were a goddess.

“You’re beautiful baby,” he said honestly, voice strained with barely-restrained want. He couldn’t remember wanting someone so badly. When you smiled at him, he stepped forward and claimed your mouth, sending fire racing through your veins to ignite every nerve ending.

He lifted you deftly, laid you back amongst your pillows. He shed his jeans, boots, and socks and laid himself over you, fitting perfectly between your legs. Like he was made to be there. Grasping each side of his neck, you pulled him to you in another toe-curling kiss that had him itching to grind his hips into yours.

So he did, and dear god, the moan you let out nearly sent him to heaven.

You didn’t think you’d felt anything like it when Billy rutted his hips against your core. Pleasure had your eyes closing and your head falling back against the pillow, giving Billy plenty of access to your neck, which he took full advantage of. His mouth marked you with hot open-mouth kisses, gentle nips, and soothing strokes of his tongue while his hand drifted up your side to your breast, squeezing, testing.

You sighed against his mouth, back arching into him as his thumb and forefinger rolled your pert nipple. You felt the wetness between your thighs as Billy teased you, brought you a pleasure you didn’t truly know existed.

Sure, you’d gotten yourself off before, but the effects Billy was having on your body was heavenly, and you craved more.

“Billy,” you moaned, taking his wrist and moving his hand down your body. “Touch me please.”

Billy could have come right then and there but instead he happily obliged, dropping his hand lower. His fingers brushed against your wet folds and your hips jolted off the bed, a cry tearing from your throat. Billy swallowed it, using the opportunity to explore your mouth with his tongue. They danced and twirled and tangled together as the tip of his index finger delved between your folds.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so wet already,” he said appraisingly, sliding his finger in a bit more.

“It’s all for you,” you whispered against his mouth. Billy’s eyes clamped shut as he kissed you firmly, pouring all of the unsaid emotion swirling in his head, in his heart, into it.

He drove his finger into you to the knuckle, pulling a sharp cry from your mouth, and the discomfort quickly sublimated to pleasure when he curled it, brushing against a spot inside you that made you keen, made your hips rise to meet his hand.

“More, Billy, please,” you sighed, eyes pinched shut. You moaned lowly when he inserted a second finger, stretching you deliciously, and then he scissored them, sending your nerves into 

A white hot coil formed in the pit of your stomach as he continued his ministrations, ducking his head to lave at your throat, collarbone, and breasts. He pulled a nipple between his teeth, rolling it gently and swirling his tongue around it. It pulled a cry from you, back arching off the bed as the coil wound tighter.

“God, Billy, I’m—”

“Go on, babe. Let me hear you,” he huskily said into your skin. With a strangled cry of his name the coil snapped and you came against his hands, drenching his fingers in your juices. “Fuck, baby. You’re beautiful.”

  
He worked you down slowly from your high, kissing you slowly and languidly. With one hand he reached down for his boxers, shimmying them down his hips and kicking them off the end of the bed. His erection stood proud and tall against his stomach, and you couldn’t help but swallow thickly.  _How could your body possibly fit that?_

Billy reached down for his pants, going into his wallet for a condom. You cocked an eyebrow at him and he simply smirked, holding eye contact as he ripped the foil open with his teeth. He rolled the rubber down his length and looked up at you.

“Ready?” he asked, leaning forward to kiss you again. In answer, your thighs opened wider and he slotted between them, the head of his cock brushing against your opening. Still sensitive from your orgasm, you gasped into his mouth and rolled your hips up.

You breathed deeply as Billy guided himself to your entrance, the tip of his cock sliding between your folds. As he pushed in slowly, you winced, squeezing your eyes closed. Billy kissed you deeply, trying to distract you as he continued to push until he bottomed out. He went still above you, your warm velvety walls gripping him like a vise.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, brushing his thumb over your cheek. Eyes fluttering open, your breath caught at the gentle, adoring look in his eye. Nodding, you leaned up to kiss him again and involuntarily clenched around him, puling a hiss from between his teeth.

“I’m okay, you can move.”

It was uncomfortable at first, your body not used to this kind of intrusion, but as Billy picked up a slow pace, rolling his hips to yours, it morphed from discomfort to the most delicious pleasure you’d ever felt. You hiked your legs up around his hips, locking your ankles together, and the new angle made you moan, head falling back into the pillows.

The sounds of your pants, moans, Billy’s grunts, and skin hitting skin were the only sounds in the room, and boy, was it a beautiful soundtrack as you gave yourself over to Billy Hargrove.

After Billy had met his own release and coaxed a second orgasm from your body, you both lay side by side. Billy’s fingers drew patterns on the the skin of your hip while yours busied themselves with the medallion hanging around his neck. Completely blissed out, you closed your eyes and smiled, nuzzling your face into his neck.

“I love you.”

_Fuck_.

He hadn’t meant to say it yet, even though it’d been bouncing around in his head for a while. He’d never said those words to anyone who wasn’t his mother, least of all to a girl. A long time ago he’d just resigned himself to the fact that love just wasn’t in his cards.

Apparently, he’d been very wrong.

He panicked when you went still in his arms, trying to find a way to backtrack and take them back. He felt you moving out of his arms and his heart sunk; he’d pushed it, fucked it all up.

What he was not expecting was the wide smile on your face and the shining in your eyes.

“You do?” Your voice was tentative, but your eyes radiated happiness. Swallowing, Billy allowed himself to nod, fear of it not being reciprocated taking hold of him. He was ready to bolt, and you knew it by the frenzied look in his eye. Leaning forward, you kissed him softly, anchoring him in place. “I love you, too.”

The way Billy’s heart soared in his chest made him feel like he’d float right off the bed. Grabbing your face, he pulled you to him and kissed you again, more deeply and pouring every ounce of love he felt for you into it. You kissed him back just as fervently, damn near tears with happiness.


	7. Chapter 7

“I want out.” 

Tommy spluttered in surprise, leaning back in his chair as Billy planted both fists on his desk, towering over the smaller boy. 

“What?” he demanded.

“You heard me, Halford. I want out. Bet’s off.”

“What? How come? Y/N not giving it up?” Billy’s jaw clenched at the way Tommy spoke about you. “C’mon, man. You can’t tell me  _you’re_  giving up.”

“I’m not giving up,” Billy growled, a single curl falling into his face as he dropped his head to leer at Tommy in the eye. “But I’m done, Halford. Bet’s off.”

As Billy turned and stormed out of the library, Tommy chewed on his lip, eyes narrowed in suspicion at the denim-clad hothead. Tommy wasn’t very smart usually, but the way Billy had backed out of the bet out of the blue had the wheels in his head turning.

Billy, meanwhile, was smart as a whip, and he knew Tommy. Knew the weasel had no intentions of letting him walk out of the bet that easily. So he was on edge, feeling like he was back at home with his douchebag father, waiting for the other shoe to drop. So he planned to keep Tommy away from you for as long as possible.

Easier said than done.

Tommy stepped up his efforts in being as annoying as possible while trying to drop hints about the bet to you. The kid had a pair of brass balls the size of Texas since he tried it  _in front of Billy_  at lunch later that week. You’d noticed the jitteriness in Billy’s actions, looking over his shoulder, a shorter fuse than usual.Billy was nervous. That much was obvious to you, but the why was still a mystery. Part of you was afraid to know, but you shoved it aside. You were getting to the bottom of this.

“Billy, what’s going on?” you asked as soon as you got him alone by your locker. His fists were curled at his sides, jaw clenched from holding himself back from laying into Tommy like he had Harrington.

“I’m fine,” he grunted. But his tense posture and refusal to look you in the eye said otherwise.

“Bullshit.” His head snapped to you. “What’s going on, Billy? Why are you so angry and fidgety all the time?”

“I’m not! I’m perfectly fine!” he snapped back, arms out to his sides in a  _see?_  gesture. Frustration welled up within you.

“You really think I don’t know you by now?” you tried, cocking an eyebrow. Then your expression and your voice softened. Fingers drifting up Billy’s chest, you sighed. “You know you can tell me anything right? Tell me what’s wrong so I can help.”

Groaning, Billy scrubbed his hands over his face, dislodging your hand from his body. “I’m fucking  _fine_ , Y/N. Now drop it!”

His voice raised an octave, drawing a few curious glances from the other students. Deflating, you fixed him with a glare and turned to slam your locker closed.

“Fine,” you snarled before shoving by him down the hall. You didn’t miss the sound of his fist collided with the locker behind you. Dragging a hand through your hair, you forced yourself to calm down at you walked to class.

Once the final bell rang, releasing you from school, you walked slowly to your locker. Billy had kept his distance for the rest of the day, which you were thankful for. You didn’t have the patience right now to deal with his emotional constipation.

He wasn’t in the parking lot when you stepped outside, and his car was gone. Huffing in annoyance, you stomped to your own car.

Until Tommy intercepted you.

“Trouble in paradise, Ice Queen?” he sneered. Rolling your eyes, you tried to side-step him. “Where you off to in such a hurry?”

“None of your business,” you shot back. “Go crawl in a hole, Tommy, and leave me alone.”

Tommy whistled lowly. “You got a temper on you huh? Billy rubbing off on you? Speaking of, I saw him head off with Maggie Peterson just before last period.”

Rolling your eyes, you shoved down the tiny bit of insecurity that Tommy’s statement conjured up.

“You’re an idiot.”

He grinned, raising his eyebrows. “Don’t believe me? I’ll just  _bet_  she’s going down on him in the front seat of his Cama— _fuck!_ ”

Your fist exploded in pain from Tommy’s teeth as it connected with his face. Shaking it out, you stormed by him, making sure to slam your shoulder into his for good measure. Unlocking your car, you sat roughly in the driver’s seat, turned over the engine with a growl.

Once at home, you flew up the stairs to your bedroom, ignoring your mother’s voice as it floated up to you. You tossed your book bag into a corner before flopping face-first into your mattress. Stomach churning, you tried to brush off Tommy’s hurtful words but failed.

You’d never really been insecure, not really, but even you had sometimes wondered what Billy had seen in you. At first, you thought his interest was just some stupid ploy to get you to sleep with him, but the more he wormed his way into your life, the more you realized you were wrong about him.Were you wrong again? Were you wrong to be wrong about him?  _Was_  your relationship just a farce?

Doubt was a poisonous thing, and it seeped into your bloodstream like a virus, tainting your mind and putting ridiculous notions in your head. As you laid there, eventually rolling onto your back, you let your mind turn itself inside out. The idea that Billy was currently off sleeping his way out of anger with Maggie Peterson brought a wave of tears to your eyes, and you didn’t bother to smother them.You missed dinner. Your mother came up to get you, but you’d locked your door to wallow in your own self-created misery. You called out to her through the door that you weren’t feeling well, so she left you alone.

What made the whole situation worse was that Billy hadn’t even  _tried_  to contact you, he didn’t call, he didn’t show up, and it only forced a fresh wave of tears. With it came the assurance that Billy just wasn’t interested in fixing this.

Dark clouds hanging over your mind, you got ready for an early bedtime, washing off your makeup and brushing your teeth. As you climbed into bed, heart heavy in your chest, there was a knock at your window. Peeking your head out from under your duvet, your eyebrows came together at the sight of Billy behind the glass.

He had a busted cheek and a split lip, but what propelled you out of bed was solely the fact that he was  _here_.

“Billy?” you whimpered tentatively after shoving up the window. He climbed into your room, nearly face-planting into the carpet.

“Have you been crying?” he asked once he was standing. His eyebrows were pulled together and his hands were on your cheeks, gently swiping under your eyes.

You swallowed. “Did you sleep with Maggie Peterson today?”

Billy recoiled but kept his hands on your face. “What? Where the fuck did you get that idea?”

Dropping your eyes, you felt your cheeks warming.“Babe? Who told you that?” he repeated, ducking his head to meet your eyes.

“Tommy,” you mumbled. You felt the tension in Billy as he sighed through his nose.

“That fucking prick,” he grumbled before focusing his attention back on you. “I suppose you can see that I was doing no such thing?”

Your eyes flitted over his face, taking in the redness of his eyes and the injuries to his cheek and lip as if you were seeing them for the first time.

Sighing, you nodded. “I’m sorry. He just…got into my head when I didn’t see you after school.”

“I needed some space. I’m sorry for snapping at you today. I feel terrible.” Billy pulled you into his chest, winding his arms around your back as yours looped around his waist. You closed your eyes and hummed when he kissed your forehead.

“I’m sorry too, for getting frustrated. Are you going to tell me who did that to you?”

Billy stilled, and you could practically feel him pulling away from you. Tightening your grip, you leaned back to look up at him.

“Billy, don’t push me away, please,” you whimpered. “I want to help you, but I can’t if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Billy dropped his hands from you, and immediately you missed their warmth. Hands over his face, he turned his back to you. He knew he’d have to come clean at some point, if only so you wouldn’t look at him like you had earlier in the day.

“I forgot to pick up Max from school,” he muttered eventually. He kept his back to you and his head down, an obvious sign that he was way out of his comfort zone. “My dad…. He likes to talk with his fists sometimes.”

The gasp that left your mouth was nearly inaudible and your hand covered your mouth as Billy took to dragging his finger over your nightstand idly.

“Billy… I don’t know what to say….”

He turned towards you, eyes sad as he quirked a small smile. “You don’t have to say anything, babe. I just…. I didn’t want to keep anything from you, that’s all.”

Worrying your bottom lip, you held up a finger and ducked out of the room, tiptoeing to the bathroom down the hall. The first aid kit was under the sink, and you grabbed it quickly, hurrying back to your room.

“Sit. Let me clean those up.”

Billy sat at your desk while you straddled his lap, dabbing at the dried blood on his bottom lip. His hands rested on your hips, thumbs drawing circles on your skin. He winced when you smeared antiseptic over the split in his cheek, sealing it closed with a butterfly bandage.

“So what’d you do to Tommy?” you muttered, setting down the wipes and ointment, and crossed your arms over your chest. Billy’s hands stilled and he looked up at you in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“Come on, you can’t tell me Tommy hasn’t been more irritating than usual,” you grumbled, eyebrows raising. “So what’d you do to piss him off?”

“I haven’t done anything!” he replied indignantly. Inside, though, he was panicking and ready to pummel Tommy into the earth. He knew he should come clean now, but he held back. “He’s just not used to seeing me with a girl for longer than a night. He’s just being a dick.”

Your eyes still fixed on him, Billy had to fight to not squirm or look away. He painted on a careless expression, shrugging one shoulder again.

“Why you letting him get to you anyways?” he asked, replacing his hands on your body, this time under your sleep shirt. His fingers drifted lightly up your back, sending pleasant chills all over your body. It counteracted the insecurity brewing inside your mind. “Baby?”

Pursing your lips, you shrugged and looked away. “I don’t know. Just….sometimes he says these things, like he knows something I don’t or that you and I aren’t going to last. It just grates on my nerves sometimes, and I can’t help wonder if any of it is true.”

Billy managed to hide his panic at how close you’d come to hitting the nail on the head. He fixed his features into an expression of sympathy, knowing it wasn’t unlike you to get a little insecure.

His words were all truth when he said, “I love you, Y/N. That hasn’t changed, and nothing that fat mouth Tommy says is going to change that. Don’t listen to a word he says, okay? And if he says anything else, you come to me, all right? I’ll take care of it.”

“Billy, you promised no more fights.” He smiled a bit at the whininess in your tone.

“I won’t fight him. Just words, babe, I promise. Can you kiss me now?” Rolling your eyes teasingly, you leaned forward and kissed his cheek. He poked his bottom lip out in an adorable pout that clashed with the injuries to his face.

“You’re injured, Billy,” you said, poking his lip. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Billy’s hands wandered south into your shorts. “In that case, I’ve got another idea.”

“B-Billy,” your indignant reply faded into a sigh as his index finger slid across your folds, your hips canting towards him automatically. Your fingers found purchase in his hair and you dropped your mouth to his, kissing him fervently despite the split in his lip.

Your boyfriend was tough; he could handle it.


End file.
